


pink and white

by kay_okay



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Cherry Blossoms, Domestic Fluff, Flowers, Fluff, Japan, Japhan, Kissing, M/M, Napping, naps, sleeping, why didn't i use this for the napping fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 19:16:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14243979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_okay/pseuds/kay_okay
Summary: Tiny pink blossoms are scattered around him, over him in haphazard patterns from the light wind. One sits in the center of his forehead, two against the crest of his collarbone, a handful tossed onto his chest. A line of the flowers nestle in his brown curls, a half-circle crown that loses a bit of its shape when Dan stirs.





	pink and white

**Author's Note:**

> title and lyrics included lifted from ["pink + white" by frank ocean.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SXHpcYneDeM)
> 
> this is a work of fiction. this is a fictional story about fictional representations of real people. none of the events are true. no profit was made from this work. all mistakes are my own.

 

  
_it's the same way you showed me_  
  
_nod my head, don't close my eyes_  
  
_you showed me love_  
  
_glory from above_

  
  


 

When Phil comes home, Tesco bag cradled in his arm, he calls out for Dan across the flat. Unzipping his coat and toeing off his shoes, he makes his way towards the sound of Dan’s voice.

“On the balcony!”

Phil steps over the patio door threshold and Dan’s on his hands and knees, straightening the corners on a thick quilt he’s spread over the wooden floor of their balcony. Phil was out longer than he anticipated, a few hours at least, so by now the sun is shining brightly and birds are chirping in the bowed branches of the trees across the street. The snow had melted over the past few days, today being the first in a long time where Phil didn’t feel a chill down to his bones when he went outside to run an errand.

Dan looks up at him and squints against the sun, hand coming up to his brow to shield his eyes. “Hi,” he says simply.

He’s so nonchalant that Phil has to chuckle a little before he responds. “Hi. What are you doing out here?”

Dan produces a few throw pillows nicked from their couch, tosses them about on the quilt. “Hanami,” he says. “It’s nice out,” he adds, unnecessarily gesturing rather vaguely around him at the sunlight.

“Hanami?” Phil asks. He knows what it is, they got drunk three years ago alone in their flat and during a Crunchyroll bender, impulsively booked a last-minute trip to Japan. They timed it to experience the small window in early spring where cherry blossom trees bloom pink and white, people celebrating the end of a long, cold winter with picnics under falling petals. It was all very beautiful and romantic and unexplainably nostalgic, and for weeks after they’d returned home he had to endure Dan trying to figure out how to incorporate a tree of their own in their tiny London flat.

Dan reaches over and grips the trunk of the cherry blossom tree, a more thin and wiry version of anything they saw in Japan, shaking it pointedly. They have room in this flat, an entire corner of the large balcony taken up by the tree in its porcelain pot. Two pitiful petals fall off, slowly gliding down into Dan’s lap.

“Yes,” Dan answers witheringly. “Hanami. Now sit down.”

-

Dan, for all his procrastination and things he seems to forget when they travel, is impressively prepared. He hands Phil his sunglasses after he puts his own on, pulling Phil’s socked feet into his lap.

Phil leans back on his hands as Dan works quietly, pulling each sock off and rolling the cuffs of Phil’s black jeans up a few inches. When he's done he tosses the mismatched pair aside, reaching under a patio chair to produce a small glass bottle and two coffee mugs. Dan’s already barefoot, black sweatpants cinched at the knees and arms uncharacteristically exposed through a navy blue sleeveless shirt, midday sun already starting to tint his shoulders golden.

“You thought of everything,” Phil muses, swishing the sake around in his mug once Dan’s poured him two-fingers’ worth.

Dan shrugs, but he looks pleased behind his sunglasses. He holds his mug up and smiles. “Cheers.”

- 

When they finish three servings of sake each, Dan presses Phil’s worn copy of _Ready Player One_ into his hands and leans back against a throw pillow. He gets his phone out, and Phil sees the Reddit app logo flash before Dan leans back, stretches out horizontal like a cat bathing in sunshine. The shadows of the thin cherry blossom branches cut perpendicular across his shoulders and calves, barely visible in his dark clothing until they trek across exposed skin where they stand out prominent like winding roads on a map.

Phil wants to touch them so he does, reaching a palm out and sliding it across Dan’s bare ankle. Maybe it's the sake clouding his perception, the feel of welcome sun soaking into his skin, the flood of nostalgia he feels for their trip. Whatever it is, it makes him crave closeness.

Dan pulls his foot up without looking, bending at the knee, and Phil follows its lead. In just a few beats he’s stretched out on his side next to Dan, book tossed aside and propped up on his elbow. Phil might let his hand trip up Dan’s thigh, possibly lets it slide it under the hem at Dan’s tank top to press into the warm, inviting skin of his belly.

“This was supposed to be a relaxing afternoon,” Dan warns. He puts his free arm behind his head and doesn't look up from Reddit.

“I've never felt more stress-free,” Phil grins.

The corner of Dan’s mouth turns up imperceptibly. He scrolls on his phone, sighs with faux irritation. “I forgot how grabby you get when you drink,” he scolds under his breath. He bends, retrieves Phil’s book from under the patio chair and presses it into Phil’s hand for the second time. “Finish it. I want to read it too before the film comes out.”

Phil huffs an impatient breath, his hand making the retreat from under Dan’s shirt to grab at the book, defeated. He opens at its dog-eared page, finds a compromise in pressing forward, leaning his head on Dan’s chest.

Dan tugs his arm out from under him, pulls in. Phil doesn’t feel the satisfaction he’s craving until Dan’s fingertips press into the nape of his neck, his thumb a rhythmic push against the soft skin at the base of Phil’s skull. He opens the book and starts reading, eager to get lost in another world now that he feels safe and content in this one.

-

Phil doesn’t remember falling asleep. When he wakes the first thing he feels is the dig of the hardwood floor into his hip bone combined with a stiff crick in his neck from being in the same position for over an hour.

At some point he’d abandoned the book and felt his eyes go heavy, slid his arm around Dan’s middle again, who just chuckled good-naturedly. Now though, he feels Dan’s arm stilled at his back, Dan’s chest rising and falling under his cheek in evenly-timed, deep pulls.

Phil pushes himself up slowly, partly to not disturb Dan sleeping next to him, but partly because his joints feel frozen in place. He rubs at his eyes, fuzzy from napping in his contacts, and blinks down at Dan.

Tiny pink blossoms are scattered around him, over him in haphazard patterns from the light wind. One sits in the center of his forehead, two against the crest of his collarbone, a handful tossed onto his chest. A line of the flowers nestle in his brown curls, a half-circle crown that loses a bit of its shape when Dan stirs.

Phil’s not sure exactly when in their relationship he stopped feeling foolish and awkward in moments like this. When the overfull press of emotions against his chest he didn’t yet know how to name was no longer a cause of worry, but a desired disruption in his overly ordinary life. Somewhere between a pixelated video chat and a kiss pressed hesitantly to his lips on a ferris wheel, he let himself surrender. For the first time, he let himself feel without pause.

But Phil doesn’t think about that right now. He just lets his smile unfold into the small, private one he saves for these times, reaching down to dust the blossoms off Dan’s shirt.

Phil tries to keep the motion soft but Dan stirs again, his expression working into the same one of mixed confusion and soreness Phil had not two minutes earlier. Dan groans loudly though, ever the unfiltered, and tries to stretch.

“Fuck, I feel old.”

Phil bursts out laughing and Dan joins in, voice pitched low and heavy with sleep. When he finally opens his eyes, he looks up to regard Phil above him.

“You have cherry blossoms all over you,” he comments, smiling. Phil looks down at himself for the first time and sees Dan’s right, the pink and white flowers dot him like sprinkles on a cake. He brushes himself off and Dan gently takes an arm and pulls. “Let me help.”

Phil leans down and Dan brushes his fingers across Phil’s shoulders and hair, a handful of petals falling softly to the ground. Phil laughs a bit when a few miss course and just fall directly into Dan’s face, and Phil reaches to brush them aside as Dan laughs, too.

They might pull simultaneously, Phil’s not sure. It happens that way a lot. But before he knows it he’s leaning down, Dan’s reaching up, and they meet in the middle with a soft press of their lips. He feels it when Dan smiles, feels it when he cradles Phil’s jaw in the palm of his hand to deepen the kiss.

A wind chime shimmers from their neighbors’ balcony next door as a soft breeze glides through their neighbourhood again. It sends a fresh dusting of tiny pink and white flowers across them, undoing all their work, and Phil feels Dan laughing against their kiss.

Phil lets himself feel everything now. And he loves it all.

**Author's Note:**

> let's be friends on [tumblr](http://kay-okays.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/kay_okays) <3


End file.
